I am ashamed to say, however, that I never reached the stable, for the sights of filth and horror that I met on the way so distracted me that I pushed on through the whole house, anxious to see really how much damage had been done.

I was still making my disheartening rounds when the others drove into the yard, and the wails of lamentation rose long and loud from their lips.

How can one describe it?  It seems almost impossible.  Too much has already been said, too little is really known, so I shall content myself with a few brief statements.

Above all I would have it understood that the chateau was first occupied by General von Muck and his staff.  The names crayoned on the doors of my bedrooms in big red letters bear testimony—­as well as some soiled under-linen and a glassentuch marked v.  K.—­and numerous papers stamped with the Imperial seal.  These latter are all orders or reports belonging to the third army corps, and were left behind in the precipitation of the flight!

As I now am able to see the matter in a cooler frame of mind, I realize that not only was efficiency carried out in warfare but in looting—­for it seems that everything we possessed was systematically classified as good, bad or indifferent—­the former and the latter being carefully packed into huge army supply carts, which for five long days stood backed up against our doorstep, leaving only when completely laden with spoils.

Then what remained was thrown into corners and willfully soiled and smeared in the most disgusting and nauseating manner.

A proof of the above-mentioned efficiency can be given in a description of my husband’s studio, where I found all the frames standing empty—­the canvases having been carefully cut from them with a razor, and rolled for convenience’ sake.

Useless to mention that tapestries, silver, jewels, blankets and household, as well as personal linen, were considered trophies of war.  That to me is far more comprehensible than the fact that our chateau being installed with all modern sanitary conveniences, these were purposely ignored, and corridors and comers, satin window curtains and even beds, were used for the most ignoble purposes.

Everywhere were sickening traces of sodden drunkenness.  On the table beside each bed (most of them now bereft of their mattresses) stood champagne bottles, and half emptied glasses.  The straw-strewn drawing-room much resembled a cheap beer garden after a Saturday night’s riot, and the unfortunate upright piano was not only decked with empty champagne bottles but also contained some two to three hundred pots of jam poured down inside—­glass and all, probably just for a joke.  Oh, Kultur!

I think that and the fact that most of my ducks and small animals had been killed and left to lie and rot, were the things that most angered me, and every time the guns boomed I prayed ardently for revenge!